10x12 Prompted
by Veritas Found
Summary: [A series of ficlets inspired by the twelve prompt tables at 10 Prompts.] Three A.M.: They had all agreed to give the girls time, and originally Zane had every intention to follow through on that. He just hadn't thought she'd take so dang long about it.
1. Out of the Storm

_**Note: **__So I was just going to put this note in a little pre-story chapter, but that would be silly as it's not really going to be that long. Waste of perfectly good chapter space & all that~ Anyway, I've been on a bit of an Zoi x Ami kick lately (scratch that: a BSSM kick in general). I was looking for a new prompt table to tackle for my stress-relief writing, and the tables over at 10 Prompts seemed like a good choice. I'll probably post these as I go, since I'm not planning on connecting them all like I did the 100 Moods prompts in __I Feel…__ . Just focusing on Zoimi throughout the entirety. I collected all twelve prompt tables into one giant table, which is why the prompts are labeled '101', '908', '1210', etc._

_A few notes of importance: A while back I was playing with renaming the Shitennou/giving them reincarnation names based on the area they were supposed to rule as the Four Kings, so to clear any confusion right now:_

_Kunzite: Kassim Kadar (Middle East: Arab)_

_Jadeite: Tanaka Joji (Far East: Japanese)_

_Nephrite: Nayati 'Nate' Jones (North American: Native American)_

_Zoisite: Zane Murphy (European: Irish)_

**_[EDIT] _**_I forgot I wanted to add this here, so I don't have to add it to every chapter that follows. As stated above, Zane is Irish, and as such there are a few terms I have him use frequently as terms of endearment for Ami:_

_girseach - young girl, similar to calling someone 'lass'_

_mo chara - my friend/dear one_

_a stór - treasure, 'sweetheart'_

_Any other Irish I throw in (which will not be as much as I'd like, as my knowledge of Gaelic is severely limited and goes along the more technical side - for instance, did you know Gaelic is VSO, while most Indo-European languages are SVO/SOV?)) will be included in the author's notes._

_So that's about it? Enjoy, y'all!_

_~ Ver_

* * *

**Title:** "Out of the Storm"

**Fandom:** Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon

**Prompt:** 908 (Blindsided)

**Character/Pairing:** Zoisite x Ami

**Rating:** K+ / PG / All Ages

**Word Count:** 2,336

**Summary:** While abroad, Ami ducks into a pub to escape a storm and finds more than she could have bargained for.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Authors Notes**: College-aged, pre-Crystal Tokyo. I've been playing with another fic where they meet up again and it all goes to pot, but I liked the first meeting from that fic too much to let it go. (It was started as cathartic writing, and I don't know if I'll ever finish/post it. It cuts a little too close for sharing, y'know?)

"_**Out of the Storm"**_

Zane Murphy's head snapped up like a shot at the sudden _BANG!_ that echoed across the nearly-empty pub. The crack of wood on stone was drowned out by the booming roar of thunder and howling wind of the storm outside. A few of the regulars, old drunks cantankerously nursing cool pints, grumbled and pulled in closer on themselves as they shot withering glares towards the young woman who had just stumbled into their haven with a shout against the strong wind shoving her forward. The sodden market bag in her arms burst, spilling her groceries onto the stone floor and bringing another shout from her as she fell to her knees, her face a burning scarlet even in the low light. She scrambled about gathering her things, completely oblivious to the drunk shouting at her to 'close the damn door and stop making such a rumpus'.

Zane couldn't help it. He took pity on the girl, and after putting the glass in his hand and the towel he'd been cleaning it with down on the bar he made his way over to her. She didn't look up as his heavy boots sounded off his approach, nor when the storm was once again locked outside with the forced _snap_ of the door. It wasn't until he knelt down to help gather her things, his hand brushing against her own, that she was startled enough to look up and lock eyes with him, finally acknowledging his presence. While he was suddenly set off kilter by the startling blue behind those sapphire eyes, the kind of blue he'd only expect to see at sea on a crisp spring day, she seemed to experience a different feeling entirely. The blush immediately vanished as she screamed again – not the shout of surprise that heralded her arrival at the small pub he worked at, but a scream of terror and dread and _death_ – and back-peddled into the door. She tried to make herself as small as possible, shaking as she cowered before him, and the drunk shouted at her again to keep quiet or get the hell out.

"S-sorry!" the words stumbled out of Zane's mouth as he rocked back on his heels. He raised his hands, showing he meant no harm, and waited for her to calm, but even though she was staring at his face, those gorgeous eyes now so wide and filled with fear he could almost feel his heart crack at it, he knew she wasn't truly seeing _him_. And that…for some reason, it bothered him. It wasn't just fear in her eyes, but a sense of all-encompassing terror. She literally feared for her life, just at the sight of him. And mixed in with it all, an intense sense of loathing and hate and…regret? He didn't understand. He didn't understand how he could evoke such a strong response from a girl he had only just met, but more than that he didn't understand why a part of him was tearing at the reaction she gave him. Even worse, why a part of him somehow knew he deserved it. Willingly accepted it.

The confusing mess of emotions swirling through him was enough to make him ill, but he stayed rooted in front of her. As unwilling to move away from her as she was to engage him.

"I'm sorry," he said again, the words firmer this time and tumbling out in his melodic brogue. An eye cracked open, and she stopped trembling long enough to look up at him in…surprise. "I was just trying to help, ma'am."

He scooped the rest of her things up in his arms and gave her a winning smile. It was the same smile his mate Kassim claimed could charm the skirts off half the girls in County Cork. He rocked back onto his heels then up into a standing position, not dropping a single item of the load he carried, and nodded back to the bar. When she glanced in that direction, he said, "I've got a bag back there you can use for this lot. Maybe a pint? Better yet, a cup of tea to warm you from the storm?"

She didn't reply, but she unfolded herself from the door slightly. She worried her lower lip, glancing between the bar and him, and he heaved a resigned sigh at her hesitance. He gave a half-shrug and said, "Suit yourself. I'll be over there with your tea when you're ready."

He left her crumpled against the door, walking with even steps back behind the counter. He glanced back at her as he reached under, pulled out a bag, and began filling it with her things, and he noted she no longer looked as afraid. Her eyes hadn't left him since she'd looked back at him, either, and the vainer part of his pride preened at that. The preening turned into full-out crowing when she unfolded herself from the door and hesitantly walked over to the bar, sliding into a seat in front of him. Her hands were folded primly on the bartop, and her eyes were darting between them and him. He would usually make a joke about how he didn't bite, but something told him quips wouldn't be welcomed. Not by her, at least. So instead, he pushed the bag closer to her and slid a mug of warm water and a selection of teabags her way.

"There you are," he said. "No harm done. I'm Zane, by the way," he said, and she jumped again at the mention of his name. He was holding a hand out to her, and her eyes slid slowly from his face to his outstretched hand and back again. Just when he was about to withdraw the offer and kick himself for being so forceful, she cautiously reached out and grasped his hand.

– V –

Mizuno Ami had been having a stupendously awful sort of day. It had started when she had woken up late and nearly missed her train, and it had been spiraling downward ever since. There was a toddler with sticky fingers who had gotten a sucker stuck in her hair, the sink in the public restroom at the station had soaked her when she'd tried to wash the sucker out, she had gotten severely lost as she fumbled around an unknown city in an unknown country trying to find the flat she'd be staying at for the next three months, she had discovered a rather unsavory scene in the bathroom upon her arrival, and – when she had left to purchase cleaning products and groceries for that night's dinner – she had been caught in a hellish storm to boot. All of this, of course, was before she had stumbled through the first public door she had seen – a sleepy little pub with grouchy old men yelling at her for the intrusion – and had her paper shopping bag split down the middle from the beating it had taken in the storm. Just when she thought her day couldn't get any worse, she had looked up at the kind man who had begun helping her to find…_him_.

She hadn't had time to process the dazed, almost puppy dog look in his eyes or ponder its meaning. The moment she had seen those emerald orbs, ones she had prayed she would never see again, a wave of unpleasant memories and emotions swept over her. She barely remembered screaming as she pressed herself against the door, as far away from that man – that _monster_ – as she could. The part of her that was a proud, strong warrior balked at her damselesque actions, but the greater part of her – the part that knew she was the weakest of the Senshi and always best behind the tactical side – prayed he would just leave her alone. In her mind, she remembered all too well the hell he had put her – all of them – through. The part of her mind that was newly resurfacing, the side that was developing more and more as Usagi neared her twenty-second birthday and the advent of the Crystal Millennium, latched onto her Silver Millennium memories. Those last moments with this man, the shard of dark crystal that sliced through her as if she were water. The blood that warmed her hands even as her body cooled, mixing with her own. The emerald eyes that cleared of the curse just long enough to see her last breaths leave her cooling corpse, his tortured screams of denial – choked with the wetness of his own blood – echoing in her ears.

It was such a stark contrast to the mumbled apology that came out in a thick accent from the man before her now.

But the next thing she knew, he was scooping up her things and retreating. Giving her space. Offering her tea to warm her up from the chilly storm outside. When he was farther away, she could process him better. He was…different. His hair was still long and curled, still the copper color that used to fascinate her so and still messily slapped back into a loose ponytail. His eyes…they were the same eyes she remembered at night, jovial and perpetually tinged with an air of mischief. There was no trace of the hate, of the shadow that had tinged Metalia's soldier's eyes. But...there were subtle differences, too. While he was still effeminate, there was something more…solid about him. Something from before that had been lost in the reincarnation, or at least the reincarnation she had fought against so many years ago. He still looked to be the shortest of the generals, but definitely taller than her, and there was that strength about him. But…he was wearing a green plaid shirt, hanging open in the front with a gray t-shirt hanging loose underneath. Jeans and heavy boots. Nothing of the flair she remembered, but still with a careful, put-together kind of disarray. So much the same, and yet…subtle differences. Differences she felt she couldn't reconcile. Differences…

She saw him looking at her again, and her breath hitched in her throat. He didn't recognize her. He didn't know her. Of course not – why would he? Maybe…no. She was overreacting. The stress of a bad day finally proving too much to bear, and she was being ridiculous. That was not Zoi…that man was not _him_. Besides, weren't the four Shitennou safely tucked away in their stones, hidden somewhere in Usagi and Mamoru's home? In Japan? There was no way he could be here, standing before her in a little pub in…where was she, again? Crosshaven, Ireland?

It was impossible. She was overworked. She should take him up on his offer of tea, regather her wits, and apologize for…well, acting like a basket case.

He grinned at her as she took a seat, and again she felt her breath hitch in her chest. Her gaze shot to her hands, folded neatly on the counter, as he began speaking to her. His voice really was quite lovely.

"I'm Zane, by the way," he said, and she jumped before her mind got the better of her. Zane…another name starting with 'Z'…but no, it was just coincidence. It _had_ to be just coincidence…and he was offering his hand, watching her expectantly with that grin that said he knew how much of a charmer he was, and she took another steadying breath before reaching out and clasping his hand with her own.

"Mizu…" her voice trailed off as their skin touched and a jolt powerful as Jupiter's thunder shot up her arm. She froze, her eyes locking on their hands, and she wondered if he had felt it, too. She glanced up, quickly, to find his eyes had glazed over as he stared at her. His grip was tight, fierce, and terrifying. The chirping of her phone shook her from her daze, and she stammered out an apology before trying to remove her hand – but he wouldn't let go. He seemed to not notice her efforts at all, actually, and with a shaky, terrified breath she quickly retrieved her phone and, seeing it was Usagi calling through, answered the call.

"Ami-chan, I'm so glad I got a hold of you! Look, I know you just got there and won't be coming home for another couple months, but it's really important that you –" Usagi rambled as soon as she had rushed out a greeting, and Ami's focus went from the dazed man before her to the phone in her hand.

"Usagi-chan? What happened? Is everything all right? Is Chibi-usa-chan –" she asked, suddenly fearing for her friend. She was still early in her pregnancy – the only reason the soon-to-be-doctor had agreed to this trip with her mentoring professor, given she should be home in plenty of time for Usagi to deliver – but anything could happen. Usagi laughed, a high-pitched, nervous sort of sound that was too unnatural compared to her normal cheer.

"I'm fine, Ami-chan, but listen! Mamo-chan went to talk to the Shitennou last night, and…oh, Ami-chan, they're gone! And we don't know what happened to them, but…Ami-chan? Ami-chan, are you there? Ami-chan!" Usagi's voice was hollow in her ears, like a distant shouting echoing down a never-ending tunnel. Her eyes slid back to the man, who seemed to be coming back to himself, as Usagi's message settled in. The stones were gone. The Shitennou were missing. And she had just stumbled into a pub in Ireland, where a man whose resemblance to the European general's was too uncanny to be a coincidence. A man who had gone into a trance when he had taken her hand, who was now looking at her like…

"Mercury…" he whispered, voice almost reverent. His eyes focused on her pale face, and the grip that had been loosening on her hand tightened once more. "_Ami…_"

Her eyes were wide and panicked as her jaw slipped open, and she barely registered Usagi shouting her name as the phone slipped from her hand and clattered onto the bartop.


	2. I'm Hungry

**Title:** "I'm Hungry"

**Fandom:** Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon

**Prompt:** 302 (Book)

**Character/Pairing:** Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami

**Rating:** T / PG-13 / Teen

**Word Count:** 1877

**Summary:** Zane needs food, and his stomach is not willing to wait for his girlfriend to finish her flashcards to get it.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Authors Notes**: College/pre-Crystal Tokyo. A bit of 'senior year is exhausting stress-relief' silliness.

"_**I'm Hungry"**_

Sometimes it paid to have a boyfriend in college, especially when he was just as much of an 'egg-head' as you were. When study dates that consisted of actual studying counted as legitimate quality time, the usual strain that academics put on a relationship was much easier to manage. Even if said boyfriend tended to be on the more aloof, 'I'm Too Smart For You Eejits And You Know It Why Am I Here Again?' side. (True, Zane was graduating early at the end of the year – as she would be next year – but he didn't have to rub their faces in it. Good thing he was an exceptional fighter.)

That particular night leading up to midterms found them both in the library, in the quiet little section they had scoped out the year prior that was hardly ever occupied save for them. She was sitting on the floor, her textbooks spread out on the table before her, while he was sprawled out on the couch she was using as a backrest. He had kicked off his shoes shortly after they'd arrived, and he had been nudging her with his toes for the past twenty minutes. Every time she glanced over at him, his face was buried in the textbook propped against his chest, but she would swear she could see the smirk on his annoyingly gorgeous face. The next time he prodded her, she captured his foot in her hand and drew a feather-light touch against its bottom. He squealed – actually _squealed_ – and jerked his foot back. When she looked back to him, he was propped up on his elbow, the textbook fallen forgotten to the floor, and he was gawking at her. She smirked at him and looked back to the flashcards she had been studying.

"Stop it," she said, sending up a quiet prayer of thanks that he was so ticklish. He nudged her again. She shot him a pointed look, and he gave her his best puppy face.

"Hey, Ames," he said, and she rolled her eyes at the nickname. It wasn't one of her favorites, and he knew it. "Mo chara." _Much_ better, she thought, thrilling at the way his brogue came out in his native tongue. She had never thought she would be the type to be so easily taken by accents, but Zane had a way of bringing that side out of her. "I'm hungry."

Ah.

She turned her wrist upside-down to glance at her watch. and she balked at the time. They had been studying nonstop for…egads, six hours now. The simple face told her it was just after eight – hadn't they planned on leaving around seven?

He nudged her shoulder again, and she shot him a perturbed (if slightly sympathetic) glare.

"Get your stinking feet away from me," she said, and he grinned at her in his 'I'm Adorable Don't You Love Me?' way (and damn it all if she really, really did, stinky feet and all).

"I'm hungry," he said again. He pushed himself up and bent over so he was nearly level with her face, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Aren't you hungry, Ami?"

"I…" she started, but he was being so very distracting with how close he had moved. His eyes were exceptionally bright, and maybe she was hungry, but she was finding it hard to remember that with him quite so close.

"I didn't get lunch," he said, and her eyes widened as his stomach chose the perfect moment to make itself known. "And scratch hungry – I'm bloody _starving_."

Usually, this was the point of the evening where one of them would run out and grab some takeout, usually sandwiches from the little café at the front of the library. It was a convenient system: one could seek out sustenance while the other remained to study. Sometimes, on the nights where they didn't have as much work or were farther ahead than they'd anticipated, they both left. The problem tonight was that the café had closed ten minutes ago, and she didn't quite feel like leaving the haven of the library yet.

"So go get something to eat," she said, and he groaned as he flopped back on the sofa.

"I can't – I'm too weak, girseach!" he moaned, tossing an arm over his eyes for added affect. "I need food, but I'm too weak to fetch it!"

"Drama queen," she huffed before turning back to her flashcards. He lifted the arm slightly to peek out at her.

"I got the food last time?" he offered, but she wouldn't budge. "Ami! You're killing me here!"

"I'm almost done," she said. "Give me ten more minutes and we can go find something together."

"I'll be dead in ten minutes – I need food now!" he whined. She shot him another look only to find he was once again slouched all over the sofa, his head turned down as he looked at her from a nearly upside-down position. "I'm gonna waste away, and then I'll die, and I won't reincarnate this time, and you'll be so very sorry because you'll miss me so very much –"

"Unlikely," she snorted, but he prattled on as if he hadn't heard her. He probably hadn't.

"– and did I ever tell you my parents this time 'round are diabetic? That means low blood sugar, and bad things can happen if my sugar gets too low, and I feel it dropping now and –" he continued, and she finally slammed her flashcards down and glared at him.

"Zane, honestly! Your parents are _not_ diabetic – they're retired in Kinsale!" she huffed, and he blinked at her before his face screwed into a look of confusion. From the upside-down angle, his nose looked crinklier than usual. It was kind of adorable, in a 'I Want To Hit You Right There' sort of way.

"What's that got to do with…fine, never mind. I'm not diabetic. But I'm still starving!" he whined, and she rolled her eyes as she leaned her head back against the sofa. She turned her head to find he had shifted closer so that their faces were barely a breath apart. "Please? Find me food?"

"Five more cards," she said, holding up the handful of cards she had left to finish. Their evenings at the library didn't always descend into cajoling and bribery, but there had been the occasional evening where both were too absorbed in their studies (or, as was usually Zane's case, laziness) to be bothered with food. Those evenings usually turned into a battle of wills that would make Joji and Rei proud, as it always came down to who was more stubborn and willing to wait out the other. She usually won, given his child-like impatience and short attention span.

"Aaaaaaamiiiiii," he whined, dragging out the vowels in an especially annoying way. "You can finish them at home! I'm starving!"

"Zane Murphy, you –" she started, but he was having none of that.

"Star! Ving!" he enunciated, and she groaned as she rolled her eyes. When she looked back at him, he had resumed his puppy pout. "Food? Please? Preferably followed by cuddles?"

"What are you, five?" she snipped, and he grinned as he dashed forward to quickly land a kiss on her pouted lips.

"Five and a half, I like to say," he quipped, "but only mentally. Physically I'm much, much older – and aren't you glad?"

"Right now I'd be glad if you'd shut it and let me finish my studying," she said, and he chuckled.

"England's brought out the rude in you, mo chara," he said. "I like it. You're fiestier."

"You do realize, of course, that if you had just let me finish I would have been done with these cards ten minutes ago and we could have been out of this library actually finding food to rid you of your _starving_ problem?" she asked, tossing the cards back on the table with a frustrated flourish. That mischievous glint was back, and she found herself suddenly suspicious. "…Zane."

"Actually, I'm not really hungry. Just bored," he said. He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Though, now that you mention it, I actually could grab a bite…Chinese sound good? Or I could pop in at the Tesco's and get us some sarnies, or…Ami? What's the look for? Ames?"

Her eyes had grown wide, her mouth slipping open as she gaped at him in something he wanted to call shock but looked more akin to horror. He backed up slightly, slapping his best boyish grin on as he hesitantly called her name again. She blinked, and the astonishment was suddenly gone and replaced by icy fury.

"Bored?!" she grit out, and he found himself trying to back up even more. Shame the arm of the sofa was blocking his path. "_Bored?!_"

"Now, now, mo chara, remember we're in a – yeeep!" he squeaked, scrambling over the edge of the sofa as she shrieked and tackled him. "Ok! Ok! Five more cards, just don't –!"

"Get! Out!"

They froze, both turning their heads to see Amber – a sophomore that usually pulled the late shift at the help desk, one Ami had personally tutored through most of her Bio 210 classes last semester – shaking in barely controlled rage. Zane hated to admit it, but it wasn't the first time she had kicked them out of the library, either. Usually because of him. Actually, usually he was the only one she was kicking out. She had a soft spot for Ami.

"Hey, Amber! Glad to see you! I was just trying to convince my Ami here that she needs to feed me, so don't you think –" he tried, but the blonde was still pointing towards the exit.

"Out!" she snapped. "I can hear you two all the way at the front – not ok, guys, really!"

Ami quickly moved off of him and back to the table, her face a burning scarlet as she mumbled apologies and gathered their things. She was moving past Amber just as Zane was pulling himself off the floor, and Amber reached out to catch her shoulder.

"Ami, sweetie, you know I love you and would never ban you from the premises, but seriously, mate," she said, "next time leave the pet home."

Ami bit her lip and glanced back at Zane, who was spluttering like Amber had just slapped him. She looked back to her friend and grinned. The blush was fading slightly, though a nice rosy hue still stained her cheeks.

"Don't worry. I will," she said. "Good luck on your midterms next week. Zane, come on. I actually am hungry, no thanks to you."

Zane watched her go, looking between Amber (who was smirking at him like he'd just been properly put in his place, which he honestly hadn't – honestly!) and Ami (who was walking away in that expectant way that showed maybe he was just the slightest bit whipped), and huffed. He ran after her, catching up in a few loping strides before falling into step beside her, and asked, "How did I become the bad guy here?!"

"Quite simple," Ami answered, not once looking at him as she pushed the doors to the outside open and strode through. "I was bored."


	3. His Mercury

**Title:** "His Mercury"

**Fandom:** Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon

**Prompt:** 1205 (Every time)

**Character/Pairing:** King Endymion, Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami

**Rating:** T / PG-13 / Teen

**Word Count:** 1264

**Summary:** While Tuxedo Kamen rescues Sailor Moon from Dimande, King Endymion is confronted by one of the few people left awake in the Crystal Palace.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Authors Notes**: Crystal Tokyo/R era.

"_**His Mercury"**_

"You did not tell them of us."

Endymion turned his head, hiding his surprise well at the man's silent approach. Zoisite stood in the doorway to the crystal chamber, an unreadable expression on his face. Endymion could sense his confusion, hesitation through their psychic link, but the general was doing well to shield the true extent of his emotions. He sighed and looked back to the four women forming a ring around the crystal, their hands and powers linked as they gave everything they had to the barrier around the palace. They had not moved since…

Zoisite's guard dropped the slightest bit as he approached, but it was enough for Endymion to catch a glimpse at the true extent of the turmoil wracking the youngest of his Shitennou. Truly, it was the same turmoil that plagued him every time he looked at his crystal-encased queen and the same turmoil that haunted the other three every time they thought of this room and the women within. Pain. Loss. Hope. The desire to do anything to take the burden from the shoulders of the Inner soldiers, and the helplessness that came with knowing the best they could do was monitor them. Guard them. Exactly what they were doing, and exactly what they each felt was not enough in the slightest.

Zoisite stopped before Sailor Mercury, his expression cracking just the slightest as his hand slowly rose to her face. He hesitated just short of touching her, his hand trembling before fisting and returning to his side. His only comfort could be in seeing her; to touch her would risk her concentration, and the slightest waver in the barrier…

"Soon, Zoisite," Endymion said. He reached out and clasped a hand on his shoulder, and Zoisite drew a heavy breath. "This will all end soon."

"How can you be so certain?" he asked, and Endymion chuckled slightly. Zoisite shot him a perturbed stare, and the king shrugged helplessly.

"I have already lived one side of this war," he said as if it were obvious. "I remember Serenity defeating the Wise Man. While I have not seen the aftermath from our side, I cannot believe it will be for worse. I remember Small Lady returning to us shortly after to complete her Senshi training, and the future she spoke of – what little she could tell us – was never bleak."

"Yet you still did not tell the Senshi of the past about us," Zoisite said, tone accusing. He looked back to his wife, his beautiful Mercury, and his guard cracked yet again. Gods, he missed her…no amount of knowing this was the right way, the only way, could make that any less true.

"You were spying," Endymion said, an equal accusation in his voice, but Zoisite was unrepentant.

"It was my shift at the guard station," he said. "I was the one who informed you of the breach in our security. Of course I was spying."

"You know, with the others, I don't think I'd have to make this order explicit, but with you…" Endymion looked over to him, an eyebrow raised. "You are not to interact with the Senshi of the past, Zoisite."

"You say it like I was planning on running up to the past Sailor Mercury and snogging her senseless on the spot," Zoisite quipped, and Endymion turned to fully level his incredulous look on him.

"And you weren't?" he asked. Zoisite had the decency to flush.

"It hadn't entirely escaped my mind," he mumbled. "She is my a stór, after all."

"Not that Mercury, Zoisite," the king said, eyes narrowed. "Not at that time, not for a few years."

"Can you honestly say you believe that, Endymion?" Zoisite asked, giving him a level stare of his own. "When you saw Sailor Moon, the younger version of your queen, can you honestly tell me there wasn't some part of you that reached out to her? Some part that saw who she was and recognized her as who she will one day be? As a part of the queen you're waiting so earnestly for?"

"That Mercury has no good memory of you, Zoisite," Endymion said. "That Mercury only knows you as a traitor who tried to kill her and her friends. She would not trust you. If I were to tell her she eventually marries you…"

"I understand that, I do," Zoisite said. "They're too close to the events of the Dark Kingdom, and their memories have not been restored to them. But all the same…she is my Brigid as much as she is Ami. There is some part of her that is the same, that will always be the same, and that is the part I can appreciate as my love. It was the same princess I fell in love with in the Silver Millennium, the same girl I awoke to in that pub before the restoration, and the same woman I gladly married now in the Crystal Millennium. She is my Brigid every time, much as I am her Zoisite every time."

As much as the king wanted to be annoyed with his old friend, he found he could not. He sighed and smiled, shaking his head as he clasped a hand on his shoulder.

"You're such a goofball most of the time," he said. "It can be easy to forget how deep you actually are."

"I feel I should be insulted," Zoisite quipped with a smirk. He looked back to Mercury then, his expression softening as he observed his wife. "I won't approach them, my king. I know better. The surprise will be good for them, and if we clued them in now they would only be distracted from their objective."

"But?" Endymion asked, seeing that look in his eyes and knowing there was more he had left unsaid.

"The second they're able to come out of this spell, I'm taking her back to Mercury and we're not returning for a month," Zoisite said, giving him a grin. "Actually, I probably won't even let her leave our room for a week."

Endymion blinked for a moment before he choked on a laugh, and the next thing Zoisite knew his king was doubled over in body-shaking laughs. He grinned, looking back to Mercury and sighing. He leaned closer and said, "Oh dear, mo chara. I think I broke him."

"Get back to your post, Zoi," Endymion said, shoving his shoulder slightly. He grinned and nodded, winking before he teleported over to the console in the corner of the room. Endymion lifted an eyebrow at him as he leaned back in the chair, propping his feet up on the desk and resting his head on the arms tucked behind his head. Zoisite just grinned.

"You said get back to my post," he said. "Jadeite had just relieved me at Security to send me down here when I showed up."

Endymion gave him a look, and he shrugged.

"Just doing my job," he said. Endymion rolled his eyes before a voice echoed through the room.

"Tuxedo Kamen has returned with Sailor Moon from Dimande's fortress," Jadeite's voice said. "They are awaiting you with the other Senshi, sire."

"Thank you, Jadeite," Endymion said, knowing the Shitennou would hear him. He turned back to Zoisite, ready to say something else, but the Northern King just waved him off.

"Go, already," he said. "I've got this covered here. And the sooner you get them home and out of here, the sooner our girls come back. So get going already."

Endymion shook his head, smiling slightly as he left the crystal chamber.


	4. Three AM

**Title:** "Three A.M."

**Fandom:** Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon

**Prompt:** 1008 (Intentions)

**Character/Pairing:** Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami

**Rating:** T / PG-13 / Teen

**Word Count:** 1946

**Summary:** They had all agreed to give the girls time, and originally Zane had every intention to follow through on that. He just hadn't thought she'd take so dang long about it.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Authors Notes**: Pre-Crystal Tokyo. The lyrics blocking off the fic are from "Perfect In Your Eyes", a wonderful little tune from Russell Crowe and Alan Doyle.

"_**Three A.M."**_

_before, I laughed 'cause you would, too_

_I prayed to God in Sacre Coeur / I promised Him I'd live_

_you shambled about with those shiny things / you redefined 'forgive'_

_ and before, I came apart from you / and before, I made you cry_

_ and before, I broke my heart in two / when I was perfect in your eyes_

_ perfect in your eyes…_

When the Irishman had shown up at Joji's flat earlier that evening, the usually reserved priest had not imagined his night ending like this. He had figured he'd receive a call a few hours later, probably from some bartender who wanted him to fetch his inebriated friend, but he had never imagined that call would be from the very woman he was attempting to (and failing to) woo. He definitely hadn't imagined the call being along the lines of a barely hissed out, "Come get him _now_ or you won't be waking up in the morning."

Given the miko in question, he wouldn't put burning his flat down in the middle of the night past her.

Which is what found him at the top of the steps of the Hikawa Shrine at three in the morning, trying to forcibly remove a very drunk, very agitated Zane Murphy from the premises. Rei stood across from them, standing defensively before her blue-haired friend and glaring bloody murder at Zane.

"Get him out of here, Tanaka!" Rei snapped, and if Joji didn't know better he would have sworn he saw sparks fly from the fingertips of the hand pushing Ami back.

"I'm trying!" Joji called, raising his voice louder than was appropriate for three in the morning – but Zane was leaving him little choice in the matter, what with how loud he was being. "Zane, man, come on! Before someone calls the cops! I am not bailing your ass out of jail this time!"

"I'm not leaving 'til she talks to me!" Zane answered, and Joji rolled his eyes.

"And why should she when it's guaranteed you've put yourself in a state to not even remember the conversation in the morning?!" he asked. He tugged his arm again, growling when the man wouldn't budge. For someone who had probably consumed more than his weight in alcohol (Joji had seen him drink on a good day and known the results to be bad; he'd hate to think of the bender he'd gone on when something actually _bad_ happened), Zane was incredibly resistant. From the ruckus he could hear in the background of Rei's call, he had been expecting an easy retrieval; not this nightmare Zane was putting up.

"Come on, Zane," he said, opting for a different approach. He laid a hand on Zane's shoulder, and the Irishman turned glassy green eyes on him. He looked so desperate, so lost – and it tore at a part of him – the part that was in the same boat, desperately seeking forgiveness and acceptance from a woman who really had no reason to grant it – but he was sick of the drunken escapades. "We said we'd give them time and space. This is not doing that."

Zane whipped about then, turning a pleading gaze on Ami. She wasn't looking at him. Actually, her back was turned to the whole scene, but Joji could tell from the way she was shaking how distressed she was by the whole matter. From what he'd come to know of her in this life, and what he had known of her before, he wasn't surprised. She didn't seem the type to appreciate confrontation, and when that confrontation was in the form of a pissed Irishman declaring his love or whatever the hell Zane had thought he was doing at three in the morning…and glancing at Rei, he was suddenly impressed by his fire miko's control; he would have expected her to have blasted Zane long before now, given the state of her friend.

"I gave her time! I gave her space! Bloody hell, Jo, what'cha think I've been doing all week?!" Zane asked, glaring at him. Joji wanted to point out that that was the point, that it had only been a week since they'd reentered the girls' lives, but Zane wasn't paying him any attention. He looked back to Rei, his bleary eyes sliding past her to land on Ami, and he suddenly seemed to deflate. "I've apologized. I've pestered. I've left her the hell alone. I've done everything I possibly could, and it's still not good enough! The hell do you want, Ami?! What else can I do?! We both know you're going to forgive me and we're going to get to putting this whole mess behind us, so why can't you just do it so we can get to the happily ever aftering already?!"

"Zane!" the shout came from Rei and Joji, both scolding and furious. Joji's grip tightened on his arm, and he tugged him again.

"We're leaving – _now_," he hissed, "before you shove that foot any further up your mouth!"

"I miss you, mo chroí," Zane mumbled, his words coming out more slurred as his energy seemed to leave him. He was deflating like a balloon, and Joji soon found he was having to fully support the idiot. "And I'm so confused, and lost, and I don't know what else to do to make you see how very, very _sorry_ I am. I'm sorry, Ami. I'm so, so sorry…"

"Leave, Zane," Rei said, her voice firm. "Now."

Joji was about to haul him away, convinced the gusto had finally left his friend and he would come willingly, when Rei drew his attention again. She was asking Ami something, sounding frustrated, and he soon saw why: Ami began moving towards them, her steps steady and measured but her face looking so torn. Still, there was a grim set to her jaw and a determination in her eyes; it was the look of a Senshi, of a warrior who had a mission to complete. She stopped before them and placed her hands on Zane's face, lifting it up to look at her. He seemed confused at first, but then hope began blossoming in his eyes like a child on Christmas – until she firmly squashed it.

"You're drunk," she said, her voice firm, "so you're going to let Tanaka-san take you home, and you're going to sleep this off, and we're all going to forget this ever happened."

"A-" he started, but she hushed him with a finger placed firmly against his lips. He swallowed thickly, and Joji wondered if he would further emasculate himself by crying. At this point, it wouldn't surprise him. He would already have a hell of a lot of damage control to do come morning.

"You've done everything you can, Za…Zoi…" she paused, looking down as she drew in a shaky breath. Zane looked like she was killing him, like he wanted nothing more than to gather her up in his arms and hold her as she cried. Looking over at Rei, at the tormented look in her own eyes, Joji couldn't say he disagreed with the sentiment. But the ball was in the girls' court, now, and they were powerless to do anything until the girls made their move. When you were seeking penance, that was the only thing you could do – and Ami was kind enough to let Zane know it. "There's nothing more you can do, and you're right. I will forgive you. I just can't now. And you need to let me process this, to heal, and then I'll find you. I promise you, Zoisite. I just need time."

"But it's not just you, is it?" the dejected man asked blearily. "Aye, I'm the one who fucked up, but it's not just you. And doing this apart from you…it's so hard, mo chroí. I need you. I need you to forgive me. I need you to forgive me sos I can forgive myself. I…I…"

His head fell, and Joji saw tears sliding down his cheeks as he grit out, "I'm an insensitive bastard who doesn't deserve a second thought, let alone a chance. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I was wrong," Ami mused, and Zane looked up in surprise to find her smiling slightly. It was barely there, the ghost of it barely curling the edge of her lips, but it was still a smile. She moved into Zane's space, pressing herself against him as her arms encircled him in a hug. Joji stood awkwardly to the side, still trying to support the drunk so he didn't complete squash the woman. "Maybe there was more you could have said. I'm sorry, too, but…you need to…"

She looked down, her face burying in his shoulder as she took a deep breath. He smelled of cheap beer and smoke and nothing at all like the Zoisite she remembered, and she didn't like it. But he was still there and solid and blessedly real, and she found that was the part that was steadily weakening her resolve. He murmured something in her ear, slurred speech in a tongue she barely recognized, and she felt him grow heavier. She sighed and held him tighter, her resolve crumbling.

"Tanaka-san, I don't live too far from here," she said, looking over to Joji. He lifted an eyebrow at her, and he was amused to see her face burning scarlet in the moonlight. "Can you…can you help me…?"

"What happened to needing time to process, Mizuno-san?" he asked, and she sighed as Rei walked up beside her. Joji was ninety percent sure Zane had already passed out.

"Ami, sweetheart, are you sure?" Rei asked, touching her shoulder, and Ami gave her a helpless sort of smile.

"No," she said, "but he's right, isn't he? I've been telling myself this is something I need to do alone, thinking only of how his betrayal affected _me_…I never stopped to think of the hell it was putting him through. How brave he had to be just to approach Mamoru or me in the first place. And he's right, Rei. This…I need to process it, yes, but we need to do it together. Don't you see? That's the only way we can heal."

She glanced over at him, and Joji gave her an appreciative smile as he caught the meaning in her words. He looked over to Rei, but she was glaring off in the distance. He sighed. Stubborn as ever.

"That's the only way any of us can heal," Ami said. She shifted her grip on Zane, and the drunk sighed out her name in his sleep. Her face burned a little brighter, and Joji smiled as he pulled him back into his grip.

"I'll take his shoulders. Grab his feet and lead the way," he said. He paused at the top of the temple steps, looking back to Rei as Ami apologized again for the disruption.

"Hino-san…" he called, and she shot him an annoyed look. The question was there on his face, but it was not one he felt he could vocalize. He still didn't think he had a right, if he was being honest, but Zane's (rather impulsive, foolhardy) idea had emboldened him.

"Oh, fine! Be here at noon, and I swear to all that is holy if you're one second late I'm not talking to you for a year!" Rei huffed, twirling around in a flare of hair and robes as she stomped back into the temple. Joji gawked after her, flabbergasted by her response, before Ami's giggle drew him out of his stupor. He looked back at her, an insuppressible grin quirking his lips.

"I'll be damned," he mused, and Ami laughed again, more openly this time, as she began to descend the stairs.

"Somehow I feel that's more accurate than you should like," she quipped, but he just smiled. Maybe Zane's impulsiveness hadn't been an entire waste…didn't keep him from 'accidentally' bumping the drunk's head into a lamppost a few times, though. It was still three…nearly four in the morning, after all.

_before, I drank and drown / before, I let you down_

_before, I told you lies_

_if you told me to go chasing tornadoes / I'd saddle up and ride_

_ perfect in your eyes, my love / present in your mind_

_ welcome in your life, my love / when I was perfect in your eyes_

_ perfect in your eyes…_


End file.
